The Art Of Being A Chill Bystander
by CloudCuckooLandHasAQueen
Summary: Feeling down, Bruce Banner decides to go out and get coffee like a normal person. What he gets instead is some insight from a bystander that watched him break Harlem. (No OC Pairings) Due to requests, there will be more to come.
1. Harlem Is So Yesterday

**Ah the results of being sleep deprived. I'll probably regret posting this by the morning. Don't own Marvel, never will.**

I could easily ignore Iron Man. A crazy billionaire deciding to go around saving people in a technologically advanced suit wasn't a far cry from anyone else's midlife crisis. His was only on a larger scale because of his money and genius. The Hulk destroying my workplace was only a minor setback because I had already put in my two week notice, and I commuted from Brooklyn anyway. The crazy wormhole over Manhattan was enough to get my attention, but I decided that studying for my biochemistry final was a little more important because I assumed that if the apocalypse didn't happen after all, my professor wouldn't take that as an excuse. He was a bit of a dick.

The next day, I walked over the wreckage to get to the clothing store I worked at, only to find that it had been destroyed. At least that time, I wasn't inside it. I went online and filled out a few job applications while I ate from the shady and intact Chinese place a block from my building.

I was working at a coffee shop yet again when the whole SHIELD thing went down. It wasn't a Starbucks like last time and the commute was a little shorter, but work is work, and that never changes. I got the graveyard shift, when very few people needed caffeine, when he walked in. For a second, I had trouble placing him. I knew I saw him on television before, but I wondered for a second if he was an actor before I realized who he was.

"What would you like, Dr. Banner?" I asked.

He jumped, like he didn't think he would be recognized so easily. To his credit, the drunk guy in the corner didn't register the fact that he even came in, "Oh—uhm—well—I don't know."

"Go ahead. Take your time. Sorry about the menu, the owner things the whole cursive on a chalkboard thing is charming, but he writes like a third grader on speed. It pisses off the everyone in the morning."

"It's not that bad—is that an n?"

"How about I make you some herbal tea. Caffeine free."

He nodded awkwardly. I found it kind of adorable. He reminded me of a puppy somehow, if a puppy was also a shy professor and giant green monster dude.

He stood awkwardly in front of the counter, even though I would have been more than happy to deliver it to him. He did help prevent the apocalypse, after all.

"So uhm—have you always worked here?" It was so adorable of him to try and make conversation. I could tell, even without knowing where he was from, that he wasn't a New Yorker. They were brisk and almost always in too much of a hurry to talk to the barista. We didn't want to miss the next train or bus, or else we would have to hail a taxi and that cost a lot of money for people that could barely afford living in New York in the first place.

"No. I started out in coffee. You know, I was working in Harlem a while back. Coffee shop."

"Oh—" A look of understanding crossed his face.

"Nah. It's all good. That whole thing was kind of a trip." I replied, writing his name on a cup. I thought about it for a moment, before writing the rest. "You smashed it to smithereens."

"I am so sorry." He looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg forgiveness."

"Oh no, don't be. No one was hurt. A dude walked in and robbed the cash register at gunpoint the day before. Crouching underneath the counter kind of became a normal thing. I'm from the Midwest you see, so taking cover isn't anything real new."

"I'm sorry but uhm—what does that have to do with anything?"

"Tornados."

"I don't follow."

"We had drills constantly. I've known how to duck and cover properly since I was a baby. If there's not a basement, go into the bathroom or pick an internal wall farthest away from the windows. Get on your knees, tuck your head under as far as it can go, cover your neck with your hands and pray to Jesus, Mary, and the Holy Ghost."

"That's terrible."

"But true. And I'm not done. Do you know what we did after we duck in cover in the restroom for an hour?"

"What?"

"We get up, and go back to class. Frankly, my dear, you're not as much of a natural disaster as you think. I could move back to Kansas, but then I could be mowed down by a tornado. Florida could be cool, but I don't like the humidity or the snakes. People smash up Europe a lot too, so that wouldn't do me any good. If you run, you encounter the same thing, just in a different form. At least here, I'm more likely to die from something badass like an alien invasion or a city worker dropping a pipe on my head. I don't see the point in freaking out about it."

"What do you do instead of freaking out, then?"

"Get high and watch documentaries."

He snorted. I felt like doing a victory dance for finally making the man laugh—sort of. It was more like a huff with the corner of his mouth jerking up in a half smile, but I counted it.

"I don't see the point in feeling mad or getting sad about life. Life happens. You deal with it or you die. Then you carry on. Honestly, I'm kind of hoping robots come next. Now that would be badass."

"You're insane."

"The world's insane, buddy. The sooner you accept that, the happier you'll be. It's on the house." I slid the Styrofoam cup across the table.

"That's not necessary."

"Seriously, dude. You're too much. When someone offers you free overpriced tea, you accept. Hell, someone could tell me they laced my ice cream with arsenic and I'd still consider eating it if it were free."

He nodded awkwardly, pushing up his glasses on his nose. "Thank you. I'll uhm—try not to break this coffee shop too."

"That'd be super cool, man. Just saying."

He waved on the way out but paused, staring at the side of the cup for a moment. He snorted, yet again, and kept walking. That was a double victory for me.

 _BB, Hulk—My second favorite Avenger._


	2. Arson, Murder, and Gelato

**Less sleep deprived, still don't really know where all this is coming from. If you PM me, I'll see if I can take prompts. This is now so totally a thing.**

While I didn't see Bruce Banner in person again for a long time, I found myself busy with other things. In fact, he was the farthest thing from my mind as I raced out of my shop, coughing and choking on smoke. After the paramedics told me that I was good to go, I went home, and promptly started looking up jobs again. It was a shame. I was kind of hoping Dr. Banner would come back to talk some more sometime. I found him incredibly interesting. His meekness was so strange next to his alter ego that everyone else remembered. I remembered seeing a flash of him, a big, meaty arm ripping the front of my old shop right off, and a mighty roar. The fire that took out my most recent place of employment wasn't nearly so exciting.

It turned out that my coworker's ex girlfriend was an arsonist.

I only found this out after he broke up with her when she decided to burn out the inside of the coffee shop after I closed it. I don't even know why they broke up. I just knew that I'd have to get another job. With my impressive record of working at places until they got Hulk Smashed, invaded by aliens, rained down on by spare Iron Man Parts, or burnt down by a psychotic ex girlfriend, I figured that I'd be able to get a job just about anywhere in the service industry. A friend of my thought that I would enjoy working in an upscale French restaurant so I decided to give it a try. I don't think the chef expected me to know French. I didn't expect her to actually be French—or a woman. It goes to show that you shouldn't make assumptions about new experiences. It was by coincidence that I met Dr. Banner again, right in front of the coffee shop where we met.

Dr. Banner stood in front of the burnt out shop. I laughed, "You're here!"

"I—erhm—what happened exactly?"

"Oh. My friend broke up with his girlfriend. Turns out she's a bit of a pyro."

"A bit?"

"Well she's getting full on arson and assault charges and stuff, but yeah. So now I'm getting gelato. Wanna come?"

He shrugged and followed a couple paces behind me for some strange reason. I figured that he probably wasn't looking at my ass so I decided it probably had to do with his people skills or his fear of hurting me or someone else while turning into a giant green rage monster (of awesome). In that case, I didn't think four feet would make much of a difference but it seemed to make him comfortable.

"Hey Paolo." I handed the man a few wrinkled bills, "Can I get strawberry and uhm—hey Doc, what do you want?"

"Erhm the same."

"Make that two strawberries." I grinned. Paolo stared back at me blankly for a moment and shrugged, scooping it into little plastic cups for us, "Thanks man."

I gave Bruce his gelato took a dainty bite of mine.

"It's going to be okay, you know." I told him quietly.

He stopped fidgeting for a moment and looked up. A tiny bit of pink was at the corner of his mouth, "Sorry?"

"It's going to be okay." I repeated, "You're a scientist, right?"

"Yeah—"

"So you get equilibrium in the environment, right? Push a little, shove a little, beat something with a big hammer—it doesn't really matter, you see. Things eventually return to their place. They're never the same, but they remain in place. Get it?"

"—I'm sorry, what is it that you do again?"

"I wait tables at a restaurant now."

"I mean, what is it that you _do."_

"I wait tables at a restaurant and go to school."

"For what?"

"I'm undeclared. I kind of like everything so they're probably going to give me some general studies degree or something. I think I took enough of everything to be anything."

"What are you planning on doing after you're finished then?"

"God, you sound like such a stuffy grown up. That's easy. I'm going to get a job with dental insurance." I giggled, "Or maybe I'll start my own coffee shop. You never know. It could have all of those 'ironic' hipster t-shirts and bumper stickers too."

"Because opening a business is the safest things for someone with a history of working at places that get burned down or blown up."

"You forgot smashed."

"That was on purpose." Bruce grimaced. "It's a bit of a risky plan."

"What's the point of life if you're always going to go with the safest option?" I thought about it before amending my statement, "I mean, even if you know things are going to turn out shitty eventually—which they will—and eventually you will die, why not have a good run while things are good?"

"Interesting."

"And I want a robot invasion. I'll totally let you smash my coffee shop again if I get one of those." I took another bite, "Isn't this like the most amazing thing you've ever eaten?" He snorted in response, "All right, since you've interviewed me, I get to interview you."

"Uhm all right—"

I waited for a while to let the dramatic effect of a 'pregnant pause' take ahold of him. He messed with the empty plastic container the longer he waited, until eventually it broke apart in his hands.

"What—is your favorite color?"

"Red." He answered without thinking.

"Interesting." I tapped my chin, "All right, that's all."

"Seriously?"

"I know everything I need to know about you now." I giggled at his confused expression, "Red has obvious connotations like anger—" He flinched, but I ignored him, "But you would associate anger with green for obvious reasons. Red is also blood, another thing I don't think you'd like very much, which leaves a completely different meaning for you."

"And what is that?"

"Red is warm. It's proud and powerful and comfortable. It's everything you want to have. Yet, it's also dangerous, because with warmth there is a chance of being burned. Red is also the color of love. Feeling love and feeling loved are intense emotions like the color and it can feel both comfortable and scalding at the same time. Red is intense and complex, just like you are."

"That's a theory."

"Freshman English class, man." I grinned. "Okay, now ask me what you really want to ask me."

"So if I'm your second favorite Avenger, who is your first favorite?"

"Oh, that's totally easy. Black Widow, all the way." I noticed his guilty and shifty expression, "What is it?" I asked before he could run or excuse himself.

"We're not on the best of terms."

"Let me guess—big greenie meanie tried to kill her." Based on his face, I was right, "Hmmm, I'm sure it's not the first time, dude." I patted his back,, seeing him flinch "I'm sure she understands you were not in your right mind. She's a total badass anyway. She's my favorite because she's smart and badass. And I totally ship Clintasha. Hawkeye and Black Widow, all the way."

"—What—?" He stuttered and blushed for some strange reason. That was an interesting reaction. I definitely would have to file that away for later use."

"So I have to go. My babushka is coming in from Sokovia today. I'll need to stock up on my booze before I pick her up from the airport." I turned and waved at him as I left, "Oh One last important thing!" I called out as I walked backwards.

"What?"  
"My favorite color's green! Interpret that, dude!"


	3. Eat Your Damn Soufflé

**Wrecking A French Restaurant Guys**

I like going to work.

It was an excuse to put on nice makeup and smile at a variety of people that went in and out of the restaurant. That was always the most fun part, the smiling. It made people a little uncomfortable sometimes but I just couldn't help but be happy when someone broke the top and took the first bite of their chocolate soufflé and for a moment, knew what life truly was. The fact that their eyes dimmed as they went back to the boring conversation they were a part of was something that made me sad.

My sadness didn't last long though, when the entirety of the restaurant went hush and I looked up to find Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, and Steve Rodgers waiting for a table. No one was acting. Without really thinking about it, I took over the hostess's job and looked down at her list. There was no reservation for Stark, but he operated under the assumption that he didn't need to have one. Luckily, there was an open table, perfect for seating four.

"Right this way, sir." I gestured.

Bruce stiffened, looking at me like he had never seen me before, even stopping and running into Natasha. The woman turned, about to ask a question but before anything else could occur, he composed himself and kept walking.

We laid out the menus and wine lists for them, and I rattled off the specials in my brand new stuffy broadcast voice. I could've sworn I saw Bruce snort. Natasha slid closer to him and whispered something in his ear. That was a new development to work with. Maybe I would have to adjust my shipping preferences a little. It was fun to watch him as he tensed and blushed to whatever she was saying.

By the end of the night, I figured it would be a miracle if I kept my job.

"Hey, hey lady—tell me how much of this fine—fine, lovely wine can—we uhm—" Tony Stark appeared to be very drunk, but I remained stoic (well as stoic as a person constantly smiling could be) and for the rest to come tumbling out, "This wine—you've got there—" He accidentally pulled on the cloth, causing a few plates and bowls to tumble and crash. I deftly sidestepped the grapefruit sorbet palate cleanser and it's miraculously intact crystal bowl.

"The chef would love to send a few bottles home with you." I smiled, clasping his menu, "So is this altogether?"

Steve was looking at Tony with absolute disdain. Behind them, Natasha was fixated on Bruce, and Bruce was fixated on the smashed remains of his pot du crème. He stared at it like a small, disappointed child and I knew that I may not be a superhero, and I may not be a genius (we could argue that one at a later point), but I had to act. I ran back into the kitchen.

"I need two bottles of the white shit—" The sommelier just glares at me and I shake my head, "Fine, the Dom Pérignon shit." He sighed dramatically and pulled out two bottles. "Great, thanks!"

I looked up, "Hey Teddy, if you love me you'll give me that one."

"It's dessert for table—"

"Don't care. Give it to me." He seemed to obey my mystic geass powers and I ended up with two bottles (with happy little bows) under my arms and a plate in my other hand. I put the champagne in the trusted hands of Captain America and ran around the table to present Bruce with a chocolate soufflé. Both he and Natasha looked up at me like a savior. Even as a very drunk Tony wrecked the place, and Steve trying to keep things other control (therefore making everything worse), Bruce and Natasha sat in the corner eating a chocolate soufflé.

It's a small thing, but it's an enormous victory in my tiny eyes. The light from the first bite didn't leave Bruce's eyes.

At least now I know why he likes the color red best.


	4. Bystander Gets Robots And An Epiphany

**Bystander is back and finally gets robots!**

I finished college with a biochemistry degree of all things but I was still working at the restaurant. My boyfriend wanted me to go get certified to teach or something, but I found myself dragging my feet a little. While he was working hard at an entry level job to get higher and higher pay grades, I was still serving quail and soufflés and for the first time, none of it seemed right, even as we moved into a slightly less disgusting apartment (granted, in a worse borough than before) meant to be more than a shoebox. It was the start of a whole new world and I still had no idea what to do with myself.

The first thing my boyfriend unpacked after we moved the sofa in was the television. That was very typical of him. When he turned it on, every channel was filled with what we already knew. Evil robots bent on ending humankind invaded Sokovia. I finally got my robots, but my boyfriend was on edge, his arms wrapped around his legs. He was a nervous sort of guy, a bit of a safety nut that worried about everything from global warning to whether or not the Avengers were heroes or our impending doom. I figured it was a toss up, but he couldn't leave it at that. He had to analyze every bit of information he had. It was part of the reason I liked him.

"Are you watching this?"

"I have three tabs up about it." I replied, distracted. The Skype tone was going off and I accepted the video call. Baba gave me a little wave as the screen adjusted and my boyfriend rattled on.

"Doesn't your grandmother live there? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's Skyping me right now."

"What?!"

"Yeah, come here." He slid in next to me, wrapping an arm around me. The room tilted and the screen fuzzed up.

"Well as you can see—wait is that your boyfriend? Oh never mind, you're too handsome to be her boyfriend—things are kind of looking shittier by the moment. I put the silver dining set in the will for you but—" There was a resounding crash and the house started tipping to the side—well, you know how these things are, dear, you live in Brooklyn."

"Bronx now. Brooklyn's getting too expensive because all the urban professionals or whatever want to move where all the cool people are. So the cool people had to move cos they upped the rent."

"I hope it's not too bad there."

"Baba, you're on a rock rising in the air that could go hurtling down and smash into the earth at any moment, killing millions of people, and you're worried about me living in the Bronx?"

"Just make sure you lock all your windows."

"Wait, how do you still have an internet connection, Baba?"

"I guessed their giant evacuation ship thing's password. They're evacuating people now. A nice man told me I should probably go. Then he got distracted by one of those awful robot things."

"Baba, you should get on the helicarrier."

"I don't want to. Not yet."

"Baba, if you want to come inspect my new apartment for lead paint, you should get on the helicarrier."

"But I'm talking to you—"

"Look you really should." My boyfriend cut in for the first time. In the mini Skype window, he looked absolutely horrified by our conversation.

"You don't tell me what to, young man. I don't care if you—"

A beam fell and the screen pixelated. My boyfriend covered his mouth. All I could do was stare, listening to what was practically a call of crashing, breaking and gunshots. Baba wasn't saying anything, not even shouting or screaming, then all of a sudden, for a moment there was a flash of green and Baba's internet connection failed.

I continued staring at the blank screen, even after my screensaver popped up. My boyfriend slowly took my laptop away, closing it. We waited five long minutes before he said anything.

"I'm so sorry. That's horrible. Maybe we should—"

I started the countdown. It would determine whether or not things would be okay, "Five, four, three, two, one—" My phone rang and I picked it up without looking at it, "Hey Baba."

My boyfriend stared at me in absolute amazement, but I ignored him, focusing on what she was saying.

"Well, that Hulk man saved me. He probably got hit with a hundred bullet meant for me and herded me out of the house." Her voice was slurring slightly and she giggled every once in a while, "Then he went mad and started smashing everything—I get what you were talking about—anyway, then a nice young man that could run really fast helped me to the helicarriers. I'll have to thank him later. He ran off too quickly. I asked to use a phone that would work up here because I thought you might be worried."

Worried was an accurate statement. I had only been worried throughout the span of this. I didn't actually think about the implications of my Baba getting killed. It was a little frightening but at the same time, it all worked out. Finally hearing her voice alleviated a sinking feeling that I hadn't examined too closely before. I didn't want to die. I didn't want anyone to die. Yet, I couldn't let that keep me from going about my day. That had always been how I thought before.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Baba." My boyfriend took my hand; even though I didn't need that support, it was appreciated.

"Now I've got a clever idea for you." Baba continued, "There's a lot of fine young people in this business, you know. Clever ones like you."

"Baba, I'm not joining SHIELD."

"No, not that, silly. I had this idea for ages but the nice young lady that set my arm helped me—"

"Wait, you have a broken arm?"

"And a couple bruised ribs, but nothing bad. You keep interrupting me. Anyway, I thought you should take the MCAT."

"You want me to be a doctor?"

"No. I want you to _consider_ being a doctor. Or nurse. Or anything really. You don't have to, but you're a lot like me. I can be bombed, blown up, or whatever the Hell that was just now, but I'll still come out the same. The thing is, I get very bored. I see that in you."

"I do too, Baba."

"I got to go. The lady's started tapping her foot. I love you! It looks like I might see you soon. They're willing to give me a ride to get me off the phone."

"I love you too, Baba. Get here in one piece. We haven't celebrated the new place yet."

I settled back against my boyfriend's shoulder, "So everything's okay again?"

"Even if it isn't, we do what we do." I smiled up at him, "Which is why _you_ are going to finish unpacking and _I'm_ going to have a drink."

"That's unfair."

"Your grandmother didn't almost get blown up by evil robots." He was about to open his mouth but he said nothing at all, untangling himself from me.

"I'll make you a vodka soda first."

"Thank you! I love you!"

I wanted to thank Dr. Banner (even if he didn't remember) and whoever else was involved with saving Baba. I also wanted to do something that would make her proud _before_ the statistically realistic possibility that she would die before me. What use was there in trying to make the dead proud? I wanted the living to know that I could do something bigger, even if it didn't make that much of a difference in the scheme of things.

That night, I did a lot more thinking than I had when I was sixteen and going through some major existential crisis phases that I really didn't miss. I also got very, very drunk with Baba two days later and registered to take the MCAT. It couldn't hurt.


	5. Stop Brooding and Live

**So I actually can't believe this story got any reviews, really. I know the stigma against anything with an OC tag on it. But thank you for your support and I'm glad you enjoyed it. Here's the last chapter.**

There was a lot of blood, heat, people dying, and the sick smell of rotting flesh. We had to set up the tents and equipment extremely quickly, and take as many patients as we could before we had to move on to the next territory. I never thought that I would be doing anything so dangerous but then, when I thought about it longer, I was amazed I got this far. My parents took me out of Sokovia when I was seven at high risk under shady circumstances. We ended up in Kansas where the house next to us was shattered, but ours remained intact. I worked in Harlem when the Hulk destroyed a great deal of it. Even without throwing in an alien invasion, I was a miracle walking.

I guess it's just in my nature to keep pushing my luck.

"Where do you want to go now?" They asked me when I was on my break, "We've got a plane running to Sweden and a plane running to Nepal."

"Nepal? Seriously? I'm in!"

That was how I ended up two days into a hiking trip staring down Dr. Bruce Banner. He was thin and shaky looking, with a sadness I didn't see before, thrown on top of the sadness I knew existed. In short, he looked absolutely horrible.

"Uhm—hi."

"Who sent you?"

"What?"

"Who sent you? I keep running into you and that can't be a coincidence, especially now that you're here. Are you with SHIELD?"

"Nope." I replied, taking off my backpack and dropping it to the side, "I'm on vacation. Which, by the way, yours has been going for what? Two years?"

Bruce shrugged. It seemed like he knew that I wasn't going to go away, "You want me to come back?"

"Do what you want." I sat down and took out a granola bar, "You just don't look very happy out here."

"You're not working for them." Bruce surmised, sitting next to me.

"I'm too much of a big mouth. I can't keep secrets worth a damn." I peeled the wrapper off the bar and took a large bite.

"What've you been up to?"

"Nothing much. I'm a nurse. I'm working with Doctors Without Borders right now."

"Bystander finally decides to get involved huh?"

"Futile attempts at making a difference in the world make me feel better than no attempts at all. Besides, it makes my Baba proud."

"Right."

"Why did you leave?" I couldn't help but ask, and he stiffened. "Please tell me."

"I was tired—and felt betrayed."

"Betrayed? Why?"

Bruce outlined Natasha pushing him off a ledge after they talked about running to some far off place constantly. He sounded so resigned when he talked about waking up on random pacific island, and deciding that he should stay there. I listened patiently, my arms wrapped around my legs as I waited for the next part of the story to unfold.

"Well, that sucks, but I can't be mad at her." Bruce looked a little affronted but I didn't rush to explain, "If she hadn't pushed you, my Baba would be dead."

He blinked, "Well that's—"

Once I started, I couldn't stop, "My Baba would be dead, millions of other people would be dead if that rock dropped, and I just don't think a two year long hissy fit was necessary. I understand that you needed a break but making other people worry about you isn't the way to do it. My family at least knows where I am."

Bruce sighed heavily, "What happened to chill out? Go with the flow or whatever?"

"I grew up and stopped most of my recreational drug use."

"Interesting."

"I still think there's not much to freak out about from day to day, other than getting your job done and simply living—but this isn't living, is it? It's not peaceful, it's not relaxing, it's just hanging out in a forest and brooding." I finished off the granola bar and took out my water bottle, "I can't force you to do anything. Really, I can't. But I think you should reevaluate everything. Besides, I'm still rooting for Brustasha."

"What?"

"Oh. It's your couple fan name. Anyway, it was nice chatting," I got up and stretched, pulling my bag on again, "But I have to get to my checkpoint by sunset or they'll get worried."

I waved enthusiastically which was comical next to his halfhearted one. Talking to Bruce always made me happy. I always learned something. It really was no surprise when I heard he joined the Avengers once more. But at the end of the day, why did I care? He was an icon on the news and I was merely the bystander. A couple brushes with the crazy world of superheroes aside, I had a life to get to. My boyfriend always misses me, my parents want me to call more, and I was going to be switching to working in the ER back home soon enough.

Whether or not the Avengers would prevent the world from ending wasn't important. Surely, the human race is doomed, but I figure making sure that everyone had their coffee or their wounds tended to is far more important than sitting around wondering if we will be wiped out.

Life is good.


	6. The Bystander's Wedding

**So here's another random chapter of this story. I intended to leave it at the last one but this is a major stress reliever. I hope you enjoy!**

For the first time in the years that I have known him, I decided to actively seek out Bruce Banner. My fiancé argued against it. He said that I shouldn't bother one of the world defenders or something along those lines; I stopped listening to him once I realized that he wasn't going to agree with me. My baba, in turn, said that she would stop talking to me if I didn't try to talk to Bruce. She's wanted to meet him when he's not green ever since he saved her life when her home city was almost used to wipe out humankind. I just thought it was worth a try.

That's why I was sitting in a very tastefully decorated room in Avenger's Tower, or whatever it was called now days. I thought it was beautiful but too impersonal for my tastes. It lacked the fleeting marks of being human. I wouldn't be surprised if there weren't even handprints on the walls. As soon as Bruce walked in, closely followed by Natasha Romanoff, he rolled his eyes.

"You again?"

"Me again."

"Who again?" Natasha asked, looking between us.

"Hi! It's nice to meet you." I sprang up and held out my hand to shake. She moved out from underneath the doorway to take it, "You're my favorite Avenger, sorry, Dr. Banner, you know that's still true."

"So—what are you doing here?" Bruce asked at last, awkwardly sitting on the sofa with Natasha sitting as well.

She took his hand. I smiled at the gesture before clearing my throat, "I'm that random person that Bruce keeps meeting."

"Wait, you're the bystander that found him in Nepal?"

"Ooh, you told her about me. That's so nice. And it saves time!" I dug the invitation out of my bag and handed it to him, "I'm getting married. I'd like it if you came. And Natasha too." I nodded at her.

Bruce took the invitation, frowning, "I don't know if I should—"

"Baba insists."

Natasha snorted, "This is the first time anyone's invited us to a wedding."

"Seriously? I would think that a lot of people would be scrambling for having someone like you there."

"No—not really." Bruce shook his head, "I still cause too much trouble."

"Please, please, please, please—"

"Sure."

"Thank you!" I hugged him and even Natasha, both stiffening from contact, "It's going to be great. We're doing the whole traditional wedding with the chuppah and everything. If anyone else wants to come along, just RSVP with their names so that we have enough chairs. We're also going to have lots and lots of food and really, receptions are so much fun."

"So how does your fiancé feel about all of this?" Bruce asked dryly.

"Oh he thinks trying to invite you was a horrible idea. However, I am the bride, and that means I do more than choose the napkin colors. That reminds me, I have an appointment to get to." I rose smiling widely, "This bystander gets to be the center of attention for once. Isn't that great?"

o

In the end, four instead of two Avengers showed up to my wedding. Wanda Maximoff and Vision were an interesting addition to the crowd, drawing a few odd looks before, in typical fashion with all of my friends and family, they decided they wouldn't dwell on it too long. My fiancé had been alternating between breathing in a paper bag and pacing all week.

"What if I forget how to do it?"

"You've been practicing for months, love. It's going to be fine."

"What if the glass doesn't break."

"We're using a light bulb! You can break one of those if you pinch it too hard. It won't withstand a man stomping on it!"

I sighed, "Even if it doesn't go well, at least that'll be one hell of a story."

"You shouldn't curse."

"You shouldn't have eaten a bacon cheeseburger two days after your conversion."

"You ate one too!"

"Exactly. This is simply for my parents and my baba. It's no big deal. Besides, I totally got Bruce Banner to come to our wedding. I can do anything."

"I suppose."

"Say it."

"You can do anything." He murmured.

"Louder please."

"You can do anything!"

"Good! Now throw away that bag and take some Klonopin."

0

The wedding went beautifully. After our brief seclusion, we went to join everyone else at the reception, laughing the entire way. When Wanda and Vision came up to congratulate me, I didn't know what to expect but I certainly didn't expect tears on Wanda's part.

"What is it?" I asked, "What's the matter?"

"N—nothing, it just reminded me so much of home." Wanda wiped her eyes and I gave her a hug.

Vision frowned, seemingly confused, "I can't tell if you're happy or sad, Wanda. Please enlighten me."

"I'm happy, don't worry." Wanda pulled back, "I never met you two before today, but I hope you are both very, very happy."

"Thank you." My now husband smiled, "It's lovely meeting you."

She and Vision walked away as she whispered in Vision's ear about something. Bruce approached me cautiously, a tiny smile tugging the corner of his mouth, "Wanda's rarely so easily pleased."

"She's a sad one, now isn't she?" I mused, "But she feels vicarious joy for other's successes. She'll be fine."

"Dr. Banner. It's nice to finally meet you." My husband shook his hand, "You've done so much."

"Sorry I didn't get by earlier, your grandmother was talking to me. Nat's still trapped with her." Bruce grinned, "This was—interesting."

"Excuse me, I have to go for a moment." My husband kissed my cheek and walked away, leaving Bruce and I alone in the corner.

"Can you believe the light bulb didn't break on the first try?" Bruce asked, looking a little smug, "He looked like he was going to vomit."

"Yeah. It was pretty strange. Thanks for fitting it with reinforced glass by the way. That was so funny. He'd kill us if he ever found out."


End file.
